


Snip

by AlmondRose



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Future Fic, Written pre-finale, forgive me if the ending sucks, hair cutting, pacifica moves to the Shack, soos is not mr. mystery, the northwest's still have their mansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondRose/pseuds/AlmondRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacifica is done with her parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snip

Pacifica burst inside her room. She grabbed a few things and threw them into a backpack, that cursed bell still ringing in her ears. When she was done packing, she took one last sweeping look around her bedroom and opened the window. She shimmed down the ivy easily, using her years of sneaking out to her advantage. She landed on the ground and didn’t run. She was proud of herself for just walking away from the Northwest mansion, from everything she’d ever known, her destination clear in her mind when she left the gates and headed down the hill.   
***  
It had been a long time coming, her leaving. Ever since The Party when she was twelve, Pacifica had been hanging out with the Pines more and more. By the time Pacifica was fifteen, she practically lived at the Mystery Shack and her parents and her saw eye to eye on nothing. Pacifica didn’t know why, but she kept coming back, kept returning to the dull parties and boring dinners and cold smiles and sleepless nights and bells following her everywhere. Her parental relationship was strained to the breaking point when Pacifica started bringing Dipper Pines as her date to the parties. At least she wasn’t alone in her suffering. Tonight, Pacifica had finally snapped and she was not going back. Ever.   
***  
“Pacifica,” her father had said. “You’ve been accepted into a college!”

“Really?” Pacifica had asked. “I thought that I was already accepted into a school.”

“Well, yes dear, but this school is better for you. It’s in England, and--”

“England?!” Pacifica had yelled. “England? I’m not going to England! I’m going to California with Mabel!”

“Pacifica Elise Northwest, you are going to England and that is that. This school is the most elite and prestigious--” 

“Snobby and uptight, you mean,” Pacifica had said, her nostrils flaring. “Schools for pretentious idiots who think money is everything.”

“That’s it!” Her father had yelled, taking the bell and ringing it. The sound filled Pacifica’s head and she knew it would not stop for hours. “Go to your room!”

“Oh, I’ll go to my room, alright,” Pacifica yelled back. For once she had felt brave in the face of the bell. “And I’ll never come back!” She stormed away. At the top of the stairs, she turned back and yelled. “You know where I’ll be!” She had taken great satisfaction in slamming her door.   
***  
Stan took one look at the blonde outside the Shack and let her in. Pacifica dropped her bag next to the door. 

“Thanks,” she said gratefully. He grunted and waved his hand in a way Pacifica took to mean, “Did you ever doubt that we’d let you in?” She smiled at him and went into the living room, where a Ducktective marathon was happening. Both Mabel and Dipper were engrossed with the show. Pacifica smirked and made her way to Dipper. She sat next to him, so close she was practically on top of him, and took his popcorn bowl. He turned to look at her. 

“When did you get here?” he asked. 

“Thanks, Dippin Dot, I’m really feeling the love,” she said, rolling her eyes. She knew that Dipper knew she was teasing. Dipper put his arm around her. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t been here for a while.”

“Nah,” she smiled. “Just a minute.”

“How long are you staying here? For an hour? For tonight?”

“How long can I stay before you kick me out?” she asked. He noticed immediately that she was not teasing. 

“Forever,” he said, kissing her forehead again.

“Thanks, Dip,” Pacifica said. 

“Don’t make out!” Mabel screeched. “This is the good part!” Pacifica laughed and after a minute, Dipper did too. Pacifica settled herself more comfortably against Dipper. 

“So what season are we on?” she asked, turning her attention to the screen.  
***  
For the first three days, everything was fine. On the third morning, Pacifica looked at herself in the mirror and all she saw was Pacifica Northwest. She didn’t want to be Pacifica Northwest. She wanted to be Pacifica Pines. Not married to Dipper (yet), but part of this crazy family she’d grown to love. But she looked in the mirror, and bells rang in her ears again.   
Blinking away hot tears, Pacifica smeared her makeup all over her face. She looked at herself again and she still looked like a Northwest. The sight made her angry, and when she was angry Pacifica tended to do crazy things. So she grabbed a pair of scissors on the bathroom counter (why they were there, Pacifica didn’t want to wonder) and she took her long blonde hair and snipped. The first lock of hair fell to the floor.   
Snip. The second lock. Pacifica felt like she was cutting away all the things she hated. 

Snip. Away from snobby parties. 

Snip. Away from schools in England. 

Snip. Away from uptight rich people. 

Snip. Away from that stupid bell.

Snip. Away from her parents… Pacifica collapsed to the floor and cried. She cried out everything. She cried away years and years until she was five years old and crying because her mommy wouldn’t kiss her knee better like in books and her knee hurt. She hurt now too. Socked footsteps sounded from behind her, but Pacifica didn’t look up from her spot on the cold tile hugging her knees and getting mascara on the knees of her Mabel jeans (jeans that were purposely torn up to be patched back together by patches made by Mabel). The footsteps were closer to her now, and gentle hands picked up her messy, choppy hair and continued to snip away, evening it out and cutting the half of her head that didn’t get cut before. Pacifica wasn’t sure if she wanted it even. 

“Give me the scissors,” Pacifica said, her voice surprisingly strong. 

“Are you sure?” Dipper asked her. Pacifica nodded and looked up. He was still in pajamas and he looked awfully concerned and not at all curious to why his girlfriend was cutting her hair and crying at six in the morning. 

“I want to do it,” Pacifica insisted. He handed her the scissors. She did not stand up or look in the mirror, just cut away at her hair. 

Snip. She cut away from servants at your beck and call. 

Snip. She cut away from a giant mansion that felt too empty.

Snip. She cut away how she’d been raised, being taught to care for her hair and keep in in a long golden curtain.

Snip. With the last bit of hair Pacifica cut away from being a Northwest. She put down the scissors. Dipper sat down on the floor across from her. He reached out and touched a newly shoulder length lock. 

“It looks cute,” he said. “It suits you.” 

“Does it?” she asked. She felt a surge of energy at what she’d done. She wanted to jump and run and slay monsters and kiss Dipper. Not in that order, clearly, because she leaned in and did the last first. When she pulled away, he pulled her over so she was sitting in between his legs, her back to him. She leaned on him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need anything?” She nodded. 

“I feel pretty okay, actually. But I would not object to pancakes.”

“Then pancakes it’ll be,” he said, but for a while they did not move. When they did, though, and he pulled her up, Pacifica did not look at herself in the mirror, because it didn’t matter how she looked. She felt really did feel fine, and that was enough.


End file.
